


In A State Of Emergency (Who Was I Trying To Be?)

by sebasent



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alarming lack of dialogue, Angst, Character Analysis, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Songfic, kind of, self-hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5802463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebasent/pseuds/sebasent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>No one wants you when you have no heart / and I'm sitting pretty in my brand new scars / and you never know if you don't ever try again / so let's try, let's try, let's try /</em><br/><b></b><br/>In a flurry of steadfast heartbeats and ragged breaths they stumble- into a bed, onto overturned tables and couches, futons, lab desks; it’s not the first time they do this (far from it, really), but Len whispers apologies and farewells into Barry’s skin- it’s not the first, time, either. This is wrong, they both know, but it doesn’t cease their meetings and wandering digits. (Not sure if they want to, honestly, but their morale and codes do not allow them to do any more).</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A State Of Emergency (Who Was I Trying To Be?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ang3lofThursday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ang3lofThursday/gifts).



> Hello!  
> This is different from my usual style since I normally don't write many character studies, but this song gives me so many feelings about this particular ship/person i just couldn't resist tbh.  
> A songifc to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxYyHHR0Q1c%0A), left to consideration.  
> All mistakes are my own, for I do not have a beta reader. Please enoy!

_A moment you’ll never remember, and a night you’ll never forget._

In a flurry of steadfast heartbeats and ragged breaths they stumble- into a bed, onto overturned tables and couches, futons, lab desks; it’s not the first time they do this (far from it, really), but Len whispers apologies and farewells into Barry’s skin- it’s not the first, time, either. This is wrong, they both know, but it doesn’t cease their meetings and wandering digits. (Not sure if they want to, honestly, but their morale and codes do not allow them to do any more).

Len knows this will end in fire and ashes and tears. He can’t think of Barry as something other than someone to call for a good fuck (though he knows he’s just kidding himself). He knows  can’t afford to think otherwise, not with the guilt eating away at his insides as a constant reminder of exactly how much of an ass he actually is, how much he doesn’t even _deserve_ this. He’s a criminal, and no amount of games with the Flash, no amount of encouragements and sweet nothings from Barry Allen are going to change that. It’s all etched into him, right in the bases of his genetic code, and it’s foolish to think that something (someone) as good and pure and plain _wonderful_ as Barry would ever be happy in his company, who he _is_. Guys like him don’t have _friends,_ they don’t have families, they don’t ever get the guy; hell, they don’t even get the _girl,_ And he has to live with the consequences of whatever may come out of the mess he’s been too stupidly (but willingly) blind to see coming since day one. He just hopes that Barry isn’t hurt too bad when all of this comes bite him in the ass and he fucks up- kills someone, maybe.  Maybe Barry will just end up giving up on him after a few months.

At least with Hunter’s offer he can try and escape the inevitable. And it’s weird, because Len’s never really cared much for time- his precise second-counting is more of a coping mechanism and vital to a heist than something he _enjoys_ doing, rather something he’s gotten used to; and now he’s being recruited to _save_ the future. How ironic is that? The man, a _villain,_ who really couldn’t give less of a shit about anything but himself and the little gallery of people he cares about, asked to save people whose parents haven’t even been _born_ yet. Barry would laugh if Len were willing to talk about it.

And he’s come to realise, too, that it really has no meaning when it comes to things like this- everything is endless and _good_ when Barry’s with him, in his arms, kissing him heatedly and with all the weight of their rivalry. It’s almost like nothing can get to them, like if the truth wasn’t imposing, scalding, and oh so painful- like there’s actually a chance for this to end well. Their fling, or whatever this is, has absolutely no meaning in the real world, can never be considered more than a series of _mistakes_. A booty call, maybe, someone who can be there in mere seconds to let off some steam through shared stimulation and multiple orgasms.

 Len knows that he can never be good. Acclamations by Barry are only that, acclamations, and as much as Len may want to play hero he just… can’t. he doesn’t know how _not_ to be selfish, he can’t find nearly as much pleasure in helping people as he does in hurting them, and he tells Mick so, when they finally decide to take Hunter up on his offer- he’s doing this not to prove Barry right or escape his feelings, but for the eventual reward. He doesn’t feel nearly as good about the events as he wishes he did.

But he’s not telling Barry about that.

He’ll pretend- painstakingly, sure, and he’ll lie through his teeth to himself and the only person he’s ever loved aside from his sister and sometimes Mick. He’ll lie because he’s a masochist, maybe even because he wants Barry to believe in him with the fervour he has over the past months when nobody (not even himself) does. Fuck, maybe even because the sex is good, even if it’s _only_ sex (and the added, queer domesticity that comes when you sleep with the enemy and have breakfast together the morning after).

He doesn’t say goodbye. In fact, after he leaves Barry’s apartment, his stomach is heavy and his eyes sting, because he doesn’t know if he will ever be able to live up to what- _who-_ Barry wants him, _believes_ him, to be. It’s a fact that Len is just breaking his and the brat’s heart more and more with every other step, every other lie, every other morning he leaves without staying for breakfast.

But he won’t stay. He won’t tell, he won’t speak, and even if he can hear the guilt and feel red string tying him back to the bed and the arms of the speedster, he won’t _feel_. (He won’t allow himself to, at least, he’ll pretend he doesn’t care in the sake of their hearts).

_All fellow sinners stand up, sing Hallelujah._

**Author's Note:**

> May write a follow-up, but idk.  
> Praise? Tomatoes? A newfoud sense of self-awareness?  
> Anything goes!


End file.
